


Company

by withoutthetiger



Category: Castle
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutthetiger/pseuds/withoutthetiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And perhaps they shouldn’t be working their way through bottles of expensive pinot noir when terrible vodka would suffice, but she’s in a position to take a high-class approach to her mourning and she finds herself rather grateful to have Katherine by her side." An emotional conversation between Martha and Kate, set while Castle is missing in Driven (7x01).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Company

The last of the wine is poured with something that might be called a ‘flourish’ if it weren’t weakened by the heavy hand of intoxication. Martha sets the empty bottle next to its twin, the clank of hollow glass a reminder of just how much is missing.

Alcohol and family, both.

She and Katherine – the woman she considers her daughter-in-law, even in the wake of Richard’s disappearance – have been sitting on the sofa for quite a while now, the cushions offering more significant support as time has passed, and she can’t remember the last time either of them spoke more than a few words of relative nonsense. When they’d first finished dinner and Alexis had ducked into the night with a shrug and something about meeting a friend, they’d maintained an appropriate amount of normal conversation for as long as possible, Katherine’s shoulders finally falling at the admission that another day had passed without a lead about what might have happened to the man they both love.

Martha’s instinct had been to refill the glasses of wine they had sipped with dinner, but she had wavered when she’d considered the caution Katherine had exercised throughout the past weeks, careful to avoid her father’s dangerous coping mechanisms; honestly, the young woman was contending with plenty of her own. Then she had watched as thin fingers wrapped around the bottle, an eyebrow arched in her direction as though the question needed to be asked at all, and Martha had offered a grave nod in response.

And perhaps they shouldn’t be working their way through bottles of expensive pinot noir when terrible vodka would suffice, but she’s in a position to take a high-class approach to her mourning and she finds herself rather grateful to have Katherine by her side.

Misery loves company, or so they say.

“My mother’s case consumed me. Tore me up, hurt the people around me. It was hell and years of failure, but I finally got the justice I’d sought.” Martha turns her head just enough to catch the slow blink before Katherine mumbles on, her gaze set somewhere across the room. “And now I’m failing again, another case ready to eat me alive, and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“You are not a failure, darling. You have to get that idea out of your head. Then you lean on those around you and continue to attack this with the same voracity with which you do everything else. Richard’s out there, and you’ll find him.”

Her confidence has waned more than she is willing to admit aloud, but she hopes some amount of faux conviction has settled between her words. They’re all she has to give now that the wine is gone.

She gets nothing but weariness in return. “It’s been 39 days, Martha. If someone wanted money – or _anything_ from us – we would have heard from them by now. I have nothing to go on.”

Then Martha’s eyes track Katherine’s attempt to push off the sofa, the woman rising on legs reminiscent of a baby deer and stumbling toward the large windows that overlook the city that has moved on without them both. And when she sees Katherine’s forehead fall against the glass, it brings about another few minutes of quiet, Martha fighting the urge to stand shoulder to shoulder with her until the sun rises. In the end, she stays put, as much because she’s unsure of her own stability as for any desire to give the space that has been requested.

There’s no good way to tell how long their stomachs churn in the silence, but Martha finally watches as Katherine’s anxiety gets the better of her, the tension needing a way out of a body that manages to exude grace amidst the grief. The woman cuts sharp lines across the floor of the loft, long strides making it a quick trip from one side of the room to the other, her hands in a relentless cycle of clench and release.

“Maybe Agent Connors was right all along. Even Esposito has his doubts.”

“About Richard being involved in this?” Martha questions, her tone failing to hide her disbelief.

“The entire time he’s known me, I’ve been damaged and he’s been able to provide the light in my life. But what if solving my mother’s case took away the foundation of our entire relationship? What if he thinks I don’t need him anymore?” Her voice breaks at the very mention of it, her steps faltering for a moment, but she shakes her head as she strides forward once again. “Maybe he needed a way out.”

“Well, that simply makes no sense. I’ve told you how much he was looking forward to marrying you. His love for you is one of the strongest and most beautiful things I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing, and there’s no way he would have voluntarily walked away from it,” she insists, her final sip of wine threatening to spill from the glass she’s waving in the air. “And keep in mind that leaving you like this would also mean he’s left his daughter behind, and when have you ever known him to turn his back on Alexis?”

Martha recognizes that she could add herself to the equation, because she doesn’t believe her son would inflict this pain on her either, but tonight isn’t about being the star of the show; tonight she exists in a supporting role and nothing more. And her logic has slowed Katherine down, caused her to tilt her head as she figures out how to solve the riddle with which she’s been presented.

“Okay, but Castle and Alexis have kept secrets before. It’s entirely possible that he’s been in touch with Alexis and will see her as soon as I give up on this. And he’s probably only waiting to contact you because he knows I’m still here at the loft and with you so often.” She’s starting to ramble now, a higher pitch and strung together words replacing the kind of rationality Martha expects from the detective. “Yes, maybe my staying here is the biggest problem. It’s why he can’t come back yet. I should pack up everything I’ve brought over and go back to my apartment. He won’t have to worry about me anymore, and he can return to you and Alexis and everything will be fine again.”

It’s absurd, and she’s certain Katherine knows it on some level, so she motions for the woman to sit on the sofa once more. “You are brilliant, dear. Far more intelligent than I could have ever hoped to be and one of the best the NYPD has ever seen. But I must tell you how wrong you are about Richard with this nonsense.”

“But Martha—“

“No, I won’t hear it. He loves you. Loves the life he has with you. Loves the future that lies ahead and the wonder it will bring. He did _not_ leave. Absolutely not.”

And it’s the truth, any alternative impossible to consider, but somehow it was the wrong thing to say because Katherine crumples next to her, her body curling in on itself as she sobs. Martha presses her palm to the back that rattles from the force of tears and each gasp for air, saying nothing else as she attempts to soothe the little she can. She thinks it must be several minutes later before Katherine looks toward her, the woman’s red and swollen eyes enough to break anyone’s heart.

“It would be better if he left me.”

“Darling, how can you even say that?”

“Because if he left, he’s not at the mercy of whoever the hell took him. Because if he left, he’s not hurt or being tortured or god only knows what else. Because if he left, he’s still alive and he can be happy.” Katherine glances upward and releases a long breath. “Plenty of people have left me before, so maybe it’s just what happens. And I can’t imagine that I’d ever love again, but I’d survive. Knowing that he’s out there and he’s okay. I’d survive.”

Martha slips her increasingly frail hand over Katherine’s trembling one, wondering when exactly the strength had been sapped from them both. Then she steels herself and threads her fingers through her daughter’s – she’s now determined to call her that regardless of how this story ends – and gives them a gentle squeeze.

“You will survive no matter what,” she declares, her pooling tears ignored.

“How could I possibly survive if he hasn’t?” Katherine chokes out. “How would I manage to live any kind of life, if his has been taken away?”

There’s no perfect answer to her question, no promises to be made. Still, she pulls Katherine as close as possible, swaying with the embrace in a way that can only be described as instinctual.

“Your father probably asked himself the same thing, but he finally figured out a way.” She feels the threat of an interruption more than she hears anything at all. “Yes, I know. It was damn ugly at times, another tragedy only a drink away. But you stepped in. You’d suffered your own loss and had been ripped apart by your own pain, but you were able to be there for him until he found a way to live again. And if – god forbid – Richard doesn’t come home to us, I will do the same for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my way of saying happy, happy birthday to a wonderful friend (who happens to enjoy a healthy dose of pain here and there). Have a spectacular day, A!


End file.
